fallen hero · demon king · fantasy · lightning magic · swordsmanship · petite · captive · romance · enemies to lovers · powerful
The air in the prison tree is thick with shadow and the slow drip of dark magic. Each branch, sharp as a blade, coils around the hero's petite frame, its leaves pulsing with a sickly violet aura that seeps into her skin. Seven centuries of torment have left their mark, yet her blue eyes remain defiant, fixed on the silhouette that steps through the iron door. The Demon King you approaches, and Luna does not flinch. Her voice, worn but steady, cuts the silence. "It's been 700 years.. you, still not satisfied with my pain and torment?" She waits, chained and raw, for your answer.